The Entirety of Our Lives
by serialfangirl
Summary: Narcissa marries Lucius Malfoy, just as she was meant to. Not everything is what it would seem, however: "Oh god," she said aloud without meaning to. "There's no need to sound so defeated."


"Did you think about it much at all? Before, I mean."

"Think about what?"

Narcissa could feel the ambivalence radiating off of Lucius as he responded to her question with an uneasy silence. She continued to stare ahead at the atrocious wallpaper in front of them. It was a mind-numbing array of pale purples and pinks, as well as some type of flower that she didn't think existed in nature, but instead as a figment of imagination in some deranged mind. For the amount of money they were paying she imagined the hotel would be able to afford a more talented decorator for the honeymoon suite. Alas.

"As much as any other girl, I suppose."

Again, he merely returned with silence. Narcissa briefly wondered what he was thinking, forgetting about her mental berating of the interior decorator. Lucius had properly waited for their wedding night while she had not, though he would never know and she would never tell him. Out of her corner of her eye, she watched as he reached over the side of bed and fumbled around for a pack of cigarettes. Her eyes followed his slender, bony fingers as he plopped one between his lips and lit it with the tip of his wand. As her newly minted husband took a deep breath, he began to tap his wand arrhythmically between them. She silently willed him to stop. She could imagine herself reaching over and snatching it from him, snapping it in half in front of his very eyes. His wand, of course, not his-

"I thought about it a little," he finally said; smoke sneaking out from his lips as he spoke. "Names and things like that. We do have a bit of a theme going - Lucius and Narcissa. I can't imagine raising a Brad or a Sarah."

Narcissa continued to look forward, her lips pressed together in a straight line and her eyebrows knitted together. She looked as if she was in deep thought but truly she was stifling a snort. Lucius, for all the respect and power he commanded in an office, was an incredibly _silly man_. He was eerily cold looking - in contrast to her own golden warmth - but he was still naive in ways she had long forgotten were possible. The contrast caused her to wonder what their marriage would be like. The wedding was amazing, which was unsurprising, though the main event was rather anticlimactic, which was also unsurprising. She had half-hoped something would happen the moment he first saw her at the altar, or perhaps when the words 'I do' finally left her lips. She realized this wasn't the Grand Narcissa Black Travesty she thought it to be though it wasn't much better either.

"It took three years for my parents."

" _What_?" Narcissa finally looked at her husband, her head whipping to the side while his eyes remained stoically forward.

"Three years and a miscarriage," Lucius continued as he stamped out the butt on the side table. She felt her hands instinctively tighten around the thin sheet that was covering her breasts. "Then I came along and they didn't bother trying again. You can't have a thousand years of the same 20 families inter-fucking and not expect some complications. How else do you explain the Carrows?"

Narcissa pressed her lips together again, this time clearing her throat lightly to thwart a chuckle.

"Anyway, can't help but to think about those types of things. When we - what if our -" Lucius reached for his cigarettes again and swiftly lit another. Several beats passed in silence as he quickly huffed through half the stick. "What if he's short?"

"Lucius," she shook her head. Silly, silly man.

"You can fucking laugh you know," Lucius turned to look at her, their eyes locking for perhaps the first time since they were standing at the altar. "I won't judge. Unless it's one of those disgusting snorty ones - in which case you can keep your happiness to yourself, thanks."

" _Lucius_ ," she exhaled a shaky giggle. "He won't be short. And he could be a she."

He didn't respond to her again and instead looked at the wall in front of them again, but now she was accustomed to his silence. He never said anything accidentally. He would rather extend the most awkward silence in the world for several minutes as he formulated the proper response before speaking without thinking.

As he reached over to light his third, Narcissa found herself staring at him unabashedly. She was amazed at how a wizard who could wordlessly demand the respect and attention of any room he entered could be the same post-orgasm insecure man lying naked beside her. She had stolen most of the sheet and as a result was privy to his uncovered body, which ran from the headboard, where he was slightly propped up, to his toes that grazed the end of the mattress. If she just given him a cursory glance, he would look as hairless as a baby. But as she allowed her eyes to travel down the length of her husband's form she could see short, white-blond hairs across his chest, trailing down to his flaccid member and down either leg.

He wasn't an attractive man, at least not in the traditional Witch Weekly cover way, but he was a marvel to look at. He had translucent-like skin that seemed to stretch over sharp bones, blond hair that was nearly equally as light, and a long body that mimicked his slim fingers. Tall wasn't enough of a word to describe him: Lucius Malfoy looked as if he has been stretched over a long period of time, his body - from his narrow nose to his freakishly long toes - was lithe and slender. It was hard to believe the sheer length of him could be so graceful and she could only assume that if he hadn't been born into his status he would be rather lanky and gangly.

"Do you love me?"

"Does it matter?" he replied as if he had been waiting for that question all night.

"No," she answered without hesitation. "I suppose it doesn't."

Narcissa turned her head to stare straight ahead once more, feeling as if she forced the silence to arrive this time rather than Lucius and that felt like a win. She wanted to leave. She wondered how far she would make it if she started to run, naked and tired as she was, if she simply jumped out of bed and began to run. She wondered if Lucius would follow her. She wondered where the fuck she would go, anyway.

"Oh god," she said aloud without meaning to.

"There's no need to sound so defeated."

"Give me one of those," she whispered, holding out her hand without looking at him.

She waited as she felt him move around beside her. A second later there was a lit cigarette in her hand. She wasn't much of a smoker, at the very least not to the levels Lucius was reaching these days, but in an instant she realized why people picked up the habit. She felt a sense of anxiety rising from the pit of her abdomen. No, she wouldn't leave. She would stay and have sex with Lucius again and again and again until he gave her a child.

She _couldn't_ leave. She was trapped.

"Three years, then."

Lucius waited a beat then she felt the uneasiness as earlier return. "Listen, I'm sorry-"

"It was fine, Lucius."

"Is it - was it -"

"It was _fine_."

"I tried to be more, well, to make it more-"

"Lucius," she turned her head sharply and glared at his reddening face for a moment before allowing her shoulders to fall, her features softening. He looked so weak, like she could simply reach over and poke him and he would crumble beneath her well-manicured nail. He was vulnerable and naked, literally and figuratively. In one moment, Lucius could look like a haunting and omniscient ghost - all powerful in his pale, white skin and sharp, gray eyes - in another he can look like a man who just realized death was just a day away. "You have the entirety of your life to practice," she said in a tone she meant to be comforting.

"Our lives."

Narcissa raised a shaky hand and brought the cigarette to her lips. They had the entirety of their lives to practice. She sighed raised her chin again and flicked the dying cigarette across the room. An odd sense of delight filled her as she watched it burn a small hole into the wallpaper she was being forced to endure.

"Would you like to try again, then?" she turned to him, dropping the sheet as her body twisted around. She nearly smiled when she saw his eyes widen with a look of excitement that was specific to a man who had been a virgin not three hours before.


End file.
